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Claude said nothing for many moments; then he looked away, picking up his glass and swallowing the sweet liquor. “I’m actually relieved by the Prince’s demand.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Who else would you be safer with than the Prince of Vytrus?” he appealed.
My fingers pressed into the wood of the chair. “I don’t need to be safe.”
Claude raised his brows.
“Okay, that didn’t come out right,” I said. “What I meant is that I don’t need to be protected.”
“Obviously you do.”
I stiffened. “I am safe here. I promise— ”
“I’m not even talking about that,” he interrupted. “Vayne Beylen and the Iron Knights are heading this way. You said so yourself. He’s coming.”
Well, I wasn’t so sure that my premonition had been about Beylen, but that was beside the point. “We may get lucky, and the sheer force of the Royal regiment will sway the Westlands and the Iron Knights away from attempting to seize Archwood.”
Claude snorted. “Beylen is many things, but easily swayed is not one of them. If he was given an order to take Archwood, he will follow through.”
“How can you know that?”
The Baron said nothing.
Pressure clamped down on my chest, and my senses opened immediately. My intuition stretched out as that string formed in my mind. I came into that gray wall andpushed.“Youdoknow him.”
Claude turned a look of disapproval on me. “Don’t read me, Lis.”
“I would apologize for doing so, but my gods, if you know the Commander of the Iron Knights, don’t you think that’s something you should’ve let Prince Thorne know before either he or the King learns of this from anyone else?” I dropped into the seat. “If they find out . . .”
“I’ll be hanging from the gallows?” Claude laughed roughly. “Trust me, I know.” He let his head tip back against his chair. “We’re actually related, Lis. Thankfully, a cousin distant enough that it would be hard to find exactly where our family tree meets.”
If I hadn’t been sitting, I would’ve fallen down. “If you’re related . . .” I placed my hands on the table. “On which side of the family?”
“Father’s.”
“Then that . . . that would mean he’s acaelestia,” I whispered. “The leader of the lowborn rebellion isn’t even a lowborn?”
Claude saluted his glass as answer, chuckling. “Sorry, I do love seeing you surprised. It is such a rarity.”
I fell back in the chair. “Well, maybe that answers why he would join forces with a Hyhborn— something you pretended to have no clue about.”
“I wasn’t pretending. I too am . . . surprised by that, but Beylen isn’t . . .” His eyes closed. “We spent a few years together when I was a boy.”
“He’s from the Midlands?” I asked. “How did he end up in the Westlands, a mortal commanding a Court army?”
“He’s starborn,” he said, and I frowned. Not only because that told me nothing at all, but because there was something vaguely familiar about that phrase. “None of that matters right now. What does is that Beylen won’t be swayed and there’s no place safer to be than with a Hyhborn prince.”
I was still stuck on the fact that he was related to the Commander of the Iron Knights. That was more important than Prince Thorne’s demand. “Then Beylen knows you’re the Baron of Archwood. You’re family.”
“Family isn’t always everything,” he murmured, stare fixed on the candles. “Not when it comes to what he . . .” Claude shook his head. “There are things far stronger than blood.”
A tiny shiver erupted, and my thoughts flashed to Maven and to what the Baron knew about my abilities— the gray shield protecting their thoughts. “How did you know it would be easier to crack the shield of a Hyhborn that wasn’t as powerful as a prince?”
His brows knitted. “What?”
“This morning, you said that.”
